Blood, Sweat and Repeated Salvation
by CastielsDemon
Summary: A Hunter with revenge in his mind wants Sam dead after watching him kill with his powers. With Sam kidnapped its up to Dean to save the day...again. Slight hint of Wincest.


Sam Winchester was slumped unconsciousness, his hands tied with chains and rope behind his back, his mouth gagged with a handkerchief which was then covered with duct tape, on a floor covered in demonic symbols and pieces of research paper. His auburn brown fluffy hair covered his wounded face – dried blood underneath his broken nose, and the hot life fluid still dripping from his mouth onto the floorboards. His eye was bruised and swollen – indication from vicious punches that happened some hours ago and his neck had a slight cut to where a knife had scratched harshly, the blood had seeped down his neck into the collar of his blue and white shirt.

A man, muscular and tall, walked around the small hotel room that Sam had been placed in, picking up and then placing photos onto the hard bed into an arrangement. He waked over to Sam, picking the scruff of his t-shirt in one hand, moving Sam upwards towards his face. Sam was still unconsciousness as he slapped him in his bruised face many times: 'Wake up, you son of a bitch!' Another slap, another punch…Sam still didn't stir from his broken slumber. The man ripped the duct tape from Sam's face, and then harshly removed the handkerchief; grabbing hold of the chains behind Sam's back lifting him up. Sam was limp as the man dragged him towards the bed, slapping him continuously until Sam started to groan and moan upon awakening.

'Wha... What?' Sam weakly moved his hands, struggling to get out of his chains.

'Open your eyes!' the man replied, forcing the Winchester in front of him, raising a knee into Sam's back causing him to jolt upright, pain washing over his injured face.

Sam tried to open his eyes – one refusing to as pain swept through his face caused by the brutal swelling of his black eye. His brown iris was surrounded in bloodshot red, his pupil gazing at the sight in front of him.

XxXxXxX

Sam hadn't come back to the hotel all night. It was 4am and Sam wasn't with Bobby or Castiel, and Dean was shit-scared. He hoped he wasn't using his powers, but he begged Ruby to tell him if Sam had been with her tonight – he hadn't. Dean had no choice. He set up the GPS device on his phone, enabling the tracer that he had placed in Sam's phone the first time he found him with Ruby. He watched the longitude and latitude scramble onto the screen – one eye on the device, one eye watching the road, as he gripped the steering wheel of his Impala tight in fear. Suddenly his phone beeped the coordinates to Sam's phone – a hotel, off the main highway, called Ring Of Fire. Dam…was he at some kind of Johnny Cash fan club or something? No…Sam didn't like that kind of music. Dean pushed the gas pedal hard, zooming down towards the destination of his brother.

XxXxXxX

Sam glared at the photos that were laid out on the bed – photos of him, his hand outstretched ripping out and destroying a demon, sending it straight back to Hell. Ruby stood beside him, but she wasn't facing the camera. In every one, her back was turned, her identity unknown to Sam's kidnapper.

'Look, I can understand what you must be thinking…' Sam was thrown onto the bed, photos scattering everywhere, stopping him from speaking any longer.

The unknown man paced up and down the room in a fury, picking up a silver gun that rested on the desk at the other side of the room.

'You don't understand anything Sam Winchester.' The man stopped briefly, noticing Sam react to his own name being mentioned. 'Oh yeah, I know your name Sam. It took a long time to find out who you were…but I finally did. A hunter yourself. Ha becoming something you hunt…' He admired the bullet chamber in his gun. 'That must really suck…'

'Look I save people with this…I save people that would have died if we just plunged a knife into them, or ripped off their heads, or put a bullet in between their eyes…I save them…' Sam sighed, tired of having to justify why he does this demonic power.

'You didn't save him though did you?'

'No…'

'Why was that?'

'He was already too badly hurt to be helped by the time the demon left him'

'Yeah…that must have really been bad for you Sam…all that strength wasted on someone who was already dead…'

'God dam it! It was one of few people that have died because of this. You have no idea of the immense number of people I have saved' Sam screamed, holding back sobs by burying his face into the quilt of the bed. Suddenly he felt the nozzle of the gun press against the back of his skull, hammer suddenly locking back, cold and frozen, sending a deathly shiver down Sam's spine. He whimpered softly.

'Yeah Sam…shame one of them few was my brother…shame…for you…demon'

xXxXxXxXx

The red luminous lights of the motel greeted Dean with mock as he raced out of his car, the engine dying down in a soft purr as Dean ran straight into the hotel office. He was met by a big built man, sitting on a chair in front of the TV watching the latest baseball game. The man was eating a burrito, meat sauce dripping down his dirty, sweaty vest.

'Hey man…you seen a tall guy around here – erm has floppy hair…a khaki coloured jacket…err, puppy dog eyes that could melt your very heart?' Dean flashed a nervous grin towards the man who only replied with: 'Room 17'

xXxXxXxXx

'Beg for your life Sam…I want to hear you beg…'

'Please…'

'BEG DEMON!'

A sudden punch hit Sam's back, causing him to cough loudly, blood remerging from his mouth, adding to the previous taste of metallic copper on his tongue.

Dean gazed towards the room door – hearing the coughs and cries from his brother. He recognised it was Sam instantly, even by a small thing like a cough. That was how close they really were. He ran towards the room door, ready to kick the door down. He went straight for the lock, his foot slamming into the entrance with an immense force. Nothing…it didn't budge. It must have been double bolted.

'Ahhh that must be your brother Sam…why don't we like him to say hello to you…and your bloody mess of brain?'

The unknown hunter put slight pressure to the trigger of the gun, before the hotel window shattered – the last sound he heard before crashing to the ground. Dean stood, gun raised, smoke whispering out from the barrel, looking into the room from the window. Sam looked towards the hunter – blood spilled out over the floor, a gaping wound central to the back of the hunter's neck. Suddenly he heard glass crunching on the floor, hands locking around his bound wrists, as he felt his brother work at removing the chains and rope.

'Dean…' Sam felt the bounds loosen, automatically standing up, wavering but still standing. Dean suddenly wrapped his arms around Sam – holding him tight, his head burying into the crook in Sam's neck, sobbing.

'I was so worried about you Sammy…you didn't come home…I was so scared Sammy…'

'Dean, look I'm ok'

Dean gazed at the broken face of his only brother, his hand running across the indented cheekbone; upset sweeping across Dean's face, as Sam then turned to look at the room – the research of Sam that covered the walls like trashy wallpaper; the scattered photos of one of Sam's saves; the bloody mess of a hunter that laid close to the bed.

'Dean…this was only one hunter that found out about what I did…what if there are others?'

Dean grabbed one of Sam's aching and bruised hands, tracing the raised veins with his fingers. 'Then I will be here to protect you Sammy…always…I promise…'

'Dean…' Sam brought Dean back into a hug again, his weight collapsing against him in exhaustion, his hands wrapping around Dean's body tightly – his brother returning the gesture in love and relief.

'Thank you…'


End file.
